The dealer was a rough and rather dirty fellow, with
the distrustful glance which distinguishes his class. Men of
Reardon's type, when hapless enough to be forced into vulgar
commerce, are doubly at a disadvantage; not only their ignorance,
but their sensitiveness, makes them ready victims of even the
least subtle man of business. To deal on equal terms with a
person you must be able to assert with calm confidence that you
are not to be cheated; Reardon was too well aware that he would
certainly be cheated, and shrank scornfully from the higgling of
the market. Moreover, he was in a half-frenzied state of mind,
and cared for little but to be done with the hateful details of
this process of ruin.
He pencilled a list of the articles he must retain for his own
use; it would of course be cheaper to take a bare room than
furnished lodgings, and every penny he could save was of
importance to him. The chair-bedstead, with necessary linen and
blankets, a table, two chairs, a looking-glass--strictly the
indispensable things; no need to complete the list. Then there
were a few valuable wedding-presents, which belonged rather to
Amy than to him; these he would get packed and send to Westbourne
Park.
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